deercountry | april catchall [ota + closed starters]

Entry tags:

april catchall [ota + closed starters]

Who: Clarisse + you
What: It's aaaa generic birthday mingle! + some closed starters
When: April, particularly around the 15th
Where: Earworm

Content Warnings: Drinking and potentially those Special Mushrooms that are available at Earworm

[ What do you do when you're turning twenty one in a month of perpetual darkness, but your blood type isn't making you hallucinate or want to punch yourself in the face until you fall into a coma for one of the first times since you arrived in Trench?

If you're Clarisse, you park yourself at Earworm and pretty much just stay there.

For the first half of April—particularly on the fifteenth and the days close to it—Clarisse can be found hanging out at the club—either inside already, or lingering near the entrance. If you're already on her (very short) list of friends she's probably texted you an actual invite; but the fact that she's somehow survived another year seems to have her in a good mood, and even if she doesn't know you too well, she'll give a nod when she recognizes you. (Or, potentially, even if she doesn't recognize you.) ]

Drink?

[ ... And, listen, if she's already drunk, she might offer you a mushroom, too. Because why not. ]

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[ The meteor showers that bring the portals to Trench are beautiful, but Clarisse doesn't trust them. Like the butterflies this month, they seem designed to lull people into a sense of wonder, to have them trustingly reach out and pull things into this world without a thought for the consequence of doing so. Objects. People. Beasts.

Still, it's hard to avoid them completely—not when they're one of the few sources of light this month, and not when they're so amazing to watch. She tells herself that she's looking so she can stop other people from bringing things through, but the truth is she's looking because part of her is wishing for a glimpse of something or someone familiar. Even if it's a trick. Even if it's temporary.

She finds herself drawn closer to one particular light because it appears so close by, only a few dozen feet away. As it lands, soft and silent, it expands until it's a portal the size of a small house. Clarisse thinks, Not a great sign, and that's all she has time for before something huge and scaly begins to emerge from the portal. Clarisse feels the vibration through her feet as it lands on their side. She's already backing up before she counts the nine serpantine heads that begin to stretch out in every direction, listening.

She nearly backs into somebody else, a woman she vaguely recognizes from the network—the blonde one talking about stuff from home. This is definitely not the memento she would've chosen, had she been given the option. ]

Don't... move, [ Clarisse says quietly, still standing in front of the woman. Even that is enough to make two of the hydra's heads whip searchingly in their direction. It reminds her of a cat spotting a mouse, the way it'll just watch, waiting for movement, before it strikes.

Shit. ]

Edited 2022-04-16 17:34 (UTC)

[ It's not Andy's usual haunt — not that she's even been in Trench long enough to really have one of those. But this club has a different atmosphere than the shitty little bars she generally prefers. Hard to say what has her breaking from habit tonight. Just restless maybe. That happens sometimes, when you're a couple thousand years old. Time seems to pass too quickly and too slowly at the same time. The constant darkness hasn't helped with that much either. Her sleep's been even more fucked than normal.

Nothing booze can't fix though. Even with the immortal curse, she can drink enough to coax unconsciousness along if she puts her mind to it. That's as good an excuse as any for a centuries-old alcoholic. She's already several shots deep by the time she hears that question. It earns a sidelong glance, then a light scoff. Dryly: ]

Are you even old enough to buy me one?

[Scorpia hangs out at the Earworm every now and then. It can be a fun place to hang out at, and she likes the music! And seeing a familiar face makes it even more pleasant. So she smiles when she runs into Clarisse.]

Oh hey there, Clarisse! [She nods along at her offer.] Sure. I am pretty thirsty right now, I'd say!

[ Just like she'd assumed they would, the portals showing up in Trench don't only bring beloved objects and quick glances of the loved ones the Sleepers have left behind. There are monsters showing up in town, things she's never seen before who must have arrived from universes unlike her own. Then again, there are plenty of monsters from her own world she hasn't personally encountered yet. Maybe there are even things she's never heard of before, creatures no half-blood has lived to tell about.

The point is, the portals are no bueno, as far as Clarisse is concerned. It's fun to kill stuff, but less fun feeling like she could get attacked any time, by any weird thing, or worse, have to fend something off while also trying to protect somebody else's dumb ass—

Which is, of course, exactly how she finds herself one afternoon (maybe? hard to tell, without the freaking sun), running up to a skinny guy and already grabbing for her spear as one of the portals starts to open up and reveal several ghastly, grinning skeletal figures. They clamber out in a mass of clicking, bleached white bones. ]

Hey! Back off!

[ It's unclear whether she's yelling at the guy or the dead... guys. Both, maybe. ]

Edited 2022-04-24 00:25 (UTC)

[ The absolute audacity of this woman for asking (a perfectly reasonable question, honestly) has Clarisse scoffing right back. Fucking rude! She's instantly annoyed, can feel her ears going hot the way they always do when she ends up embarrassed, and for a few agonizing moments she isn't sure which emotion is going to win out. She takes a couple breaths while she tries to keep either—both—from spilling out into the crowd around her. Last thing she needs right now is to end up surrounded by a bunch of pissed off strangers. Not that she couldn't take 'em if she had to, but still. Bad vibes. ]

Does it matter? [ A free drink is a free drink. But, for the record: ] As of today I am.

Cool. Uh, I'd ask what you want but I think they only serve one thing here.

[ What the One Thing is, she's not exactly sure. Some kind of alcohol, but Clarisse couldn't say what it's supposed to be. Probably some kind of moonshine, if she had to guess. Not that she's ever had that. It's just the whole sleazy vibe she's getting.

Trying to look like she knows what she's doing (she doesn't, but she's a decent enough faker), she sidles up to the bar and orders two drinks from the worm-like bartender, then brings them back to where Scorpia's waiting. ]

Fine by me! [She waves her pincer in reassurance.] I'm not picky. I'll try whatever's on the menu!

[She smiles casually. A little recreational drinking can be fun! So she just hovers in the background and watches as Clarisse gets the drinks for them. She reaches out a pincer to claim her own.]

Thank you! That was nice of you, Clairisse. Oh! Should we clink our glasses together before we start drinking? Now that's always a fun part!

( Every month here sucks in a different way, and this month seems to take the cake — something he's probably thought about each month prior — but it's a bad time.

It's dark outside, always, and Peter's confused all the time. Not just the usual confusion, but a triple dose brought on by the fact Paimon's keeping him in some weird demon-drugged state. Doing shit to his head in order to try and keep him from getting too Corrupted, and it helps, but it doesn't come without side effects.

John Constantine's gone. That's a hurt that Peter hasn't even remotely touched upon. He can't. Not yet. He just pretends like it's not there, numbs himself to it.

And there's Luna. Who's so badly Corrupted by the middle of the month that it's hard to think of her as Luna some days. Peter's a fucking nervous wreck (more than he usually is), and Paimon's working overtime with the mental manipulation to try and appease that in him.

It means that when he makes his way to Earworm, Peter just stands there inside for like three minutes straight, completely confused by the new environment and checked out. Then his brain juices manage to kick in again and he remembers why he came here. One good, normal thing inbetween all the awful, horrible shit.

He spots Clarisse soon enough and makes his way up to her with a hand shoved up through his hair and a Hey, immediately appreciative of that offer. Peter's not too experienced with alcohol, but right now he'll take anything. )

God, yeah. It's been a day. ...Night. Whatever. ( He gives one of his trademark smiles that somehow also looks like a nauseated wince. ) Do they even serve anything here that isn't like... blood?

[ To be fair, Andy is not cursed with an excess of manners, and booze has never served to improve that fact. It probably says something about her too, that she actually seems a little bit amused when she sees the way this young woman struggles visibly with her temper. The corner of Andy's mouth quirks upward ever so slightly around the rim of her glass as she tosses back what's left of her current drink. ]

You sure you wouldn't rather fight me? [ Wryly: ] Might go easy on you, since it's your birthday.

[ She's joking. Making fun. Mostly. ]

Oh. Yeah, okay, sure.

[ Obligingly, she lifts her glass and clinks it against Scorpia's before tipping it back and taking a drink. It's... well, it's gross, but its grossness is sort of the point. The grosser the drink, the more potent it is—at least that's what she's going with. ]

I hear this stuff is hangover-proof. Have you had it before?

[ Peter's... definitely looked better, and Clarisse feels instantly guilty for dragging him out like this. Second year in a row, too, like she's some douche who forces everybody to celebrate her birthday even when they've got other, more important shit happening in their lives. ]

I don't think it's blood. [ She doesn't know that it's not, but she's also not planning on asking anybody.

Instead, she makes her way to the bar and orders two glasses of Whatever It Is for herself and Peter, then maneuvers her way back through the crowd to where he's waiting. She takes another, closer look at him and frowns, concern in her expression. ]

You okay? You can leave if you're... sick or something. [ Or Something is more likely, given that it's Trench. ]

[ Challenging somebody to a fight upon first meeting them, or skipping the challenge part and getting right down to it, is innately natural to Clarisse—the Ares cabin doesn't have their reputation for nothing. She only stopped doing it regularly when she left for college and had to spend all of her time with mortals who frown on that kind of thing. And even then she managed to involve herself in a fair amount of scuffles, because frat guys are idiots.

Since she's been here, though, she hasn't run into too many people who'd just come out and ask, even as a joke. Maul is the only one who's done it with any amount of regularity, and he is the joke. She grins, still not entirely friendly—in fact, it's more of a sneer—and turns to look at Andy properly. This could be fun. ]

Please. I'd kick your ass. What are you, forty? Better watch out, you might break a hip.

Cheers!

[She declares as they tap their glasses together! Once that very important part is taken care of, Scorpia chugs down part of her drink. And blinks as she takes it in.]

Nope. Can't say I've ever had this, this unique taste before! New to me. But hey, a... drink's a drink, right?

( Peter wishes he was joking about the blood concerns, but in this place...? You never know. Everything seems to revolve around blood.

But he's accepting the drink without much suspicion when she returns, peering into it only for a second before taking a sip. Not blood, just something that feels nice and strong, and he's giving a thumbs up before he looks at her. )

Oh— no, I'm okay. Just— ( There's a beat of hesitation. Though he doesn't know the extent of it (like the heated text arguments that go on into the early hours of the morning), he does know Clarisse and Paimon aren't exactly cordial. It's a subject he doesn't often bring up around her directly. )

—He's kind of fucking with my head lately. You know... him. It's technically like... to help me, but it's making me feel kind of weird? It's okay, though.

( He definitely wants to be here. Being dead for Clarisse's birthday last year was a total bummer, even if he tried to make up for it by providing lots of weed for the belated get-together. )

[ To be fair, there's nothing overtly threatening about Andy — nothing that would, at first glance, put any weight behind a verbal challenge. She's vaguely middle-aged, not particularly broad-shouldered or tall. Just a woman. But when the birthday girl gives her those bared teeth, there's something about the glint of amusement in her eyes that's sharp-edged, her own mouth twisting with a kind of humor that's just a little mean.

Wryly, as she considers her empty glass: ]

Is that the birthday drinks talking, or do you usually lead with your mouth instead of your fists?

[ Wow, way to call her out. Clarisse does, in fact, almost always lead with her mouth, and her mouth is usually what gets her into trouble. But her fists work just fine, too. She rises out off her barstool to face Andy properly, curling her fingers into her palms. ]

You're the one who brought up fighting when all I did was offer to buy you a drink, so who's leading with her mouth? Go on. Hit me. Maybe I'll go easy on you.

[ Please, she's practically begging to get punched in the face. Better do it before the Hunters guarding the club spy what's going on, though. ]

Especially here. I can't believe this isn't made out of mushrooms.

[ Actually... it might be. But even if it is, she's just going to pretend otherwise. ]

I didn't know you hung out around here, [ she offers to Scorpia after they've taste tested the potentially fungal booze. ]

I dunno. [She licks her lips a little, experimentally, and sniffs at her dream.] It - it does have a little bit of a fungus-y feel to it...

[After all this time living in Deer Country, she feels like she's starting to become a connoisseur of mushrooms!

She casually waves a pincer as she answers Clarisse's question.]

Well I do! Sometimes. It's not my usual scene, but I do dig the music and the liveliness. And it's a very good place for socializing too, because y'know, you can never have too many friends! [...Especially given that a good number of them end up returning to the sea.]

You're the one who looked like you wanted to fight me.

[ She is, apparently, unfazed that what might have been half a joke is now inching towards the real risk of a bar brawl. In fact, maybe a little scrap is exactly what would scratch the restless itch she's had since washing up in Trench. Standing up, she lifts her hands to sweep wild hair back from her face, knotting it at the back of her head. ]

Show me something worthwhile, and I'll buy you a drink. [ She crooks a finger at Clarisse. ] Come on, birthday girl. First shot's on the house.

I do.

[ Clarisse doesn't wait to be told twice. It isn't that she looks weak—she's pretty tall for a girl, and she has the sort of muscle on her arms that doesn't come without training for it—but even so, the punch she throws at Andy is faster and with more force behind it than would seem typical.

She hasn't hit anybody like this in a while. It feels good, even though she knows it's stupid even while she's doing it. The thing is, Andy's right; she wants to fight people all the time. She only doesn't do it because she's usually trying to be better, whatever that means. Right now, buzzed and pissed off and itching for something pointlessly violent, "better" doesn't exist. ]

[ That's the thing, isn't it? Andy knows that feeling too. She was born from warrior stock, raised by a tribe of blood-thirsty women, and flung into battle before she'd lost all her baby teeth. Violence has always come naturally to her. And maybe some part of her can sense the same fighting spirit in others. Then again, maybe she's just the kind of mean bitch that likes to start a brawl once in a while.

Either way, the second Clarisse throws that first punch, there's absolutely no doubt — this is going to be fun. ]

Not bad, birthday girl. [ Even as she twists her body to avoid getting hit, she can feel the force behind that fist as it rushes by her head — that momentum. It's more than she expected. Fluke or skill? Or the booze? She'll let Clarisse take another swing and see for herself. ] Somebody teach you that?

( Patrolling through Trench is a habit that's easy to fall into. The goal has changed — no longer is she searching for her daughter, calling out her name until her throat gets hoarse — but the meaning behind it is the same. To protect Sharon with everything she can.

Now, that means facing the creatures from their world. Those monsters have managed to slip through this month, and it's all too fitting, considering Trench's perpetual darkness. It's like those sirens have gone off and the city's fallen to that nightmare world.

When she's not home, she's stalking the cobblestone streets with a steel pipe held in her hands — a souvenir found from a dilapidated warehouse last month. It maybe won't do much when it comes to some of the things she knows she could be facing, but it's better than nothing. She'll upgrade to something better someday soon.

Another portal's opening up. And every instinct should tell a person to run away, but Rose ignores the quick pulse of her own heart and approaches it, because she's learned that sometimes she can take certain monsters off-guard, knock them down before they have a chance to see her. The quivering, pigeon-toed things without arms that hobble along, or the gasping nurses without faces. There are other children besides only her own in this place, and it's her job to take away as many monsters as she can.

Except the portals stretching open wider than she's ever seen one — and Rose is looking up and up, and there's something bigger than any of Silent Hill's monsters. Bigger than anything she's encountered at all. She's almost stupidly stunned as she takes in the serpentine necks and heads, mouth tipped open in a rising horror. Then there's someone against her, and she's blinking, recognising the young woman right back.

To her credit, Rose doesn't scream her head off the way she once might have. No, she stays quiet and stays as still as she's warned to, gripping the pipe tighter. Not sure this thing's going to do much against— whatever the fuck that is. )

That's definitely not from my world. ( She whispers, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as it looks their way. )

Edited 2022-04-22 21:42 (UTC)

[for once viktor can safely say he wasn't out poking his nose where it shouldn't go. yes okay, maybe he's went to look around at the portals a few times despite knowing dangerous things came out of them. how could he resist a look into new worlds? or finding useful resources? he thinks he's perfectly in the right to maybe, just maybe, take a few more risks than he should.

this time he was just out to skim the markets for a few items, both for the bunker and for his projects. completely innocent, no curiosity and cats and all that. it figures this is when some of those meteors would fall and a portal would open and- ok yes, he did go just to take a peek but he was already close.

skeletons. well, that's a lot of skeletons. he takes a wary step back to assess how the hell he's dealing with this when- oh, that is very much someone with a spear.

viktor is having a weird day, honestly.]

Ah- [he starts but is more than happy to take a step back, watching the clacking mass shamble further. one gets close enough he gives up on being passive and plants his good leg, swinging his crutch to connect with the grinning skull. it does come snapping off the skeleton's neck but doesn't stop it in the slightest. great.]

[ Andy twists out of the way, and Clarisse feels her fist hit nothing but air. It's a weird emptiness, that lack of the satisfying contact she expected. It both disappoints her and pisses her off, and yet at the same time she can't help but be a little bit intrigued. Her hits don't usually miss, unless she's fighting another half-blood. Even then, rarely. Maybe it's just because she's been drinking. Still, she wonders. ]

Nobody had to, [ is all she says before she goes to hit Andy again, this time with her other fist.

A child of Ares is born knowing how to hurt people and how to be hurt back. Clarisse grew up throwing punches and figuring out that if she wore combat boots her kicks would leave bruises. She's used rocks, plastic forks, pens, one time even a carabiner. Living at camp taught her battle formations and how to hold a spear and a sword, showed her different wrestling moves and taught her the word pankration, but nobody ever had to teach her how to throw a punch. ]

[ Birthday girl's got good balance — the kind of control a person normally trains for years to make habitual — and missing doesn't seem to throw her off at all. Andy looks almost pleased to see how she quickly switches to come around with the other fist, barely missing a beat. No room between the bar and the chairs to dodge this one properly, so there's little choice but to raise both arms to keep from losing any damn teeth.

Luckily that she's fast about it too. Because she can feel it in her bones when that punch connects with her forearms. If not for her regenerative powers, she'd probably have a bruise to admire later. ]

So, what, you came from the fucking womb with that right hook?

[ Andy doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, she drops low for a sweeping kick to see if she can't take Clarisse's legs out from under her. ]

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april catchall [ota + closed starters]

starter for: rose da silva

andy & clarisse | earworm

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starter for: viktor

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